


Perihelion

by WorldsJunk



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Romance, Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Living Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Poetry, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-27 21:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16710475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsJunk/pseuds/WorldsJunk
Summary: Once upon a time there was an accountant that didn't believe in magic until he lost his teddy Bear.





	Perihelion

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #19
> 
> Author’s Note: Thank you, M, N, L and C. Thank you to the prompter and Mods who were kind and patient with me on my first fest participation.
> 
> TWs just in case: alcohol is drunk, recreational drugs are very fleetingly refferenced -no characters make any usage of any.

 

 

 

 

 

Time and the soul are both little odd things, never seen, sometimes felt yet always present. One is despairing, merciless at our attempts at grasping the beginning and end of a moment; the other is pure amber glinting, shining through so much murky glass, almost forever.

 

***

 

Long, long ago, there lived a sorceress, long and far away enough that neither denomination nor geography have survived the passage of time through this particular story.

This sorceress was a great one. Goddess some called her, witch many others, but all in all and from the most pragmatic point of view, she was an artisan and the thing that she was most known for was making toys.

Toys. For children.

 

With her calloused hands and quick demeanor she concocted the most exquisite and loveable of dolls, beady eyes that could just look back at you with playful glint, tin soldiers that seemed to move when you looked away, animated with a bellicose intent all of their own; wooden ships that would fit in a boy's hand but that with simple contact, could make you feel a sea captain, ready to set out in adventure, fearless, towards the unknown.

 

Every royal coveted these toys and our sorceress, though living in modesty, charged them according to their beauty, to their magic.

There came then a special day in which the sorceress was to make an object for the Prince of the greatest kingdom, a beautiful flourishing land; which she would also call her home most of the year round. The prince was beautiful, young and unwed like every prince in every story ought to undoubtedly be. Of course, said prince had parents, as princes and princesses do, that were the King and the Queen of this land and who were the ones to commission the sorceress with this truly important gift. The sorceress of course accepted most readily, promising, for a prince, a fitting gift for a fitting reward.

And so the witch worked. For 2 years she worked in a gift for our prince, promising a truly magical toy.

For two years she worked, to the great anticipation of the Prince and his parents and many people who enjoyed some time off their duties to hypothesize, gossip and imagine what the witch's next wonderful creation would be delivered right upon the date of the prince's 21st birthday.

And so, the day arrived and in this day is when our brief encounter with these characters end.

In this day, the King and the Queen -in what truly was a bourgeois maneuver- refused to give retribution to the sorceress for her work. At first she was taken aback, shocked that she would need to demand payment; you must understand, her disrespect was public, for she had walked into the Castle to present royalty with her handmade gift in person. The woman, encouraged by the Prince's favorable reaction towards his gift, a big stuffed bear -eyes made of glass blown on eternal fires under the full moon of february, the softest fur, enchanted under the sun and washed with tears shed over memories of summers of love- with bravery asked the King and Queen what she was due and was only met with scorn and further discourtesy.

The sorceress, irate, cursed them by reaching out with her whimsical hand, and plucking the Prince's soul from his body, quickly and dexterously bound it with a few stitches of golden thread into the very gift she had made for him.

While sewing his soul in, she whispered to his very essence, lips close to the toy's soft, fluffy ear; he would never be a man again until someone showed him the esteem that his parents hadn't shown her as a woman and an artisan.

For who would ever show a toy respect? When a measure of love is needed for respect; who could ever care for a plaything?

 

***

 

Minseok gets home and drops the keys on his tabletop; the tiny flat is silent except for the dull booming of the neighbor's unintelligible music coming through the wall, a background noise so usual to his arrival home he doesn’t even consciously hear it. Minseok doesn't bother turning the light on and just walks in the dusky light, muscle memory taking him towards his bedroom. One arm in and the other out of his jacket he reaches towards the occupant of his bed, smiling.

“Hello” he says, so quiet that if it was truly intended for someone to hear he would need to repeat himself. It's enough. He pets the stuffed bear's head before sighing and dropping face first into the big bear's stuffed tummy. The bear -Nini, as Minseok calls the bear in his mind- always smells so nice? Like his laundry detergent and sun rays -two smells Minseok is probably responsible for- and something else he can't identify, like honeyed elderflower, or some shit like that, all green and yellow and soft like a hug. The stuffed bear has always smelled like this and it always does no matter how much Minseok washes him. He was scared of it fading but not anymore. Minseok allows himself a few moments of this, squishing the bear's ears, listening to the white noise in his brain after a long day of work before his anxiety about being in bed with his street clothes gets too terrible.

Minseok gets up, folds or hangs his clothes neatly depending on the garment and takes a shower.

Minseok feels lonely. He is lonely.

It's fine. Plenty of people are lonely and Minseok, like plenty of people, has been lonely for quite a while now. He's never been a stranger to loneliness. Despite of that, just like this, and nowadays especially, he feels comfortable. He is safe like this.

He lives alone, has enough friends he sees on occasion, he has a boring office job bookkeeping for a branch of tiny restaurants that keeps him in a orderly routine (which is very important to him) and gives him enough money to sustain himself, pays his bills and affords him both food and his after work glass of wine.

He really can't be complaining now, can he?

 

***

 

There is a sense of nostalgia about knitting, hard to explain, because Minseok has no memories of knitting ever before. He remembers playing soccer during his childhood, he remembers the 1998 world cup and watching dragon ball on a tv, way before cell phones and flat screens. It feels like that, but there are no memories of knitting from that time, or any other time that would explain it.

Brains are weird.

His mind, most of the time, feels like tangled yarn. Soft and colorful and light, comfortable, the mess of memory and emotion that make him who he is today only apparent if he starts tugging here or there, on this or that thread, frustration and perhaps sometimes, defeat.

“It's about the repetition,” his mother tells him on the phone. It was not a phone call he wanted to make, but it's also not the first time he's made it. The phone call to tell mom he is not coming over for Christmas. It's too far away, too cold, too expensive, potentially dangerous and yes I'll stay warm mom, I love you mom, tell dad I'm doing ok, no, I still don’t have a girlfriend. Yes, mom, I'll be fine on my own, I promise I will call you.

I love you too.

 

Minseok doesn't ponder on it, he knits instead, not sure of what he is working on. He works, until he is.

 

***

 

“You need to go out more Minseokkie” Jongdae says, Minseok staring in yet another episode of a lifetime of anthological horror at the way he is serving spaghetti, splattering sauce all over his kitchen counter and the front of his shirt. “Come to the bar with us” Jongdae continues, using his finger to send some stray noodles swinging back into the pot before bringing the plates to the table, Minseok following him with their half full glasses of Merlot; “come clubbing again, it's been so long.”

Minseok says nothing, shrugs and makes a practiced sound that is ambiguous enough that it sounds like he is considering it but not so much so to sound like an agreement. Jongdae whines again “Minseok, its been like eighty years! Aren’t you tired of being alone? I'm tired of you being alone.”

Jongdae is one of those people that when happy in a relationship, want everyone else around them to also be happy in a relationship. It’s endearing and it's also insufferable.

Minseok smiles and stabs his spaghetti with a bit more force than necessary.

It hasn’t been _eighty years,_ only one year and a half since his boyfriend of four years told him he had ‘no more love to give him’ and went back to China without another word. Minseok had been stupid, he had really thought that maybe... _whatever_. It doesn't matter what he had thought. Only what he had felt, and that is a memory now too. Tangled yarn, best not to tug at.

Minseok can feel himself go tight lipped in annoyance in front of his best friend, he takes a few sips of wine while side-eyeing a patchwork cushion on the living room couch. Very likely Junmyeon's mother's handwork. Truly an angel of a woman. Junmyeon is Jongdae's boyfriend and he's moved in a few months back and they are both being pretty successful at the frankly complicated business of joint living. Minseok's mind swirls with feelings and memories and wonders vaguely if when Jongdae and Junmyeon break up that cushion will survive it or if it will be too imbued with memories for either of them to bear look at it, and therefore possess it anymore.

He thinks immediately of his bear, his faithful and only cuddle buddy and flatmate now and feels suddenly satisfied that even though he was a gift from Luhan, the bear, in all his fluffy, excessive size and vintage glory, is _his_. Somehow, it has always been independent of everything else.

He swings his gaze back at Jongdae and thinks that beautiful memories are the worst kind. He is happy, spitefully so, that Luhan's memory has not tainted his love for the stuffed bear. The patchwork cushion may not be as lucky. Small victories may be what makes life bearable.

It's fine. His life is his, and nor Jongdae nor anyone else can tell him when it's appropriate to stop being hurt about being hurt.

“I'm ok on my own” Minseok says, firmly, going back to his noodles, “I don't need all those extra problems right now, I'm perfectly fine like this.”

Jongdae opens his mouth and Minseok cuts him off, “nowadays I don’t have to take anyone's shit but yours.”

“ _A_ _h_ , _why_ ,” Jongdae whines.

 

***

 

It's cold.

 

Year's end draws inexorably closer, and with it draws that sense of trepidation and generalized sensation that we, all of us, need to have something to show for the made up measure of the last twelve months of our life. Time continues ticking away and not giving a shit about any of our feelings.

It's cold, cold enough that Minseok's cheeks feel numb in the cool breeze as he walks back home from work but not enough yet that his breath fogs, it's five thirty pm, but it's night already. Shops are already selling Christmas décor.

It feels like some shops have been selling Christmas décor since July. It feels like some other shops have never stopped selling Christmas décor, ever.

Minseok thinks that if there are no better plans, that this Christmas eve he should, by himself, eat a whole pizza and chase it with -at least- a whole bottle of wine.

 

***

 

Minseok can't imagine there will be a better prospect for that day than that. And still Christmas Eve finds him giggling, fingertips and the top of his cheeks peeking over his scarf, icy and flushed. Happy tipsy on good food and wine from the dinner Junmyeon and Jongdae threatened him into, zig zagging back home on empty streets, he is accompanied only by the occasional flash and the roses and greens of fireworks, distant laughter of strangers and strangers' families.

 

His apartment is cold. He looks at his phone display and its 45 minutes after midnight. He is even colder, outside was even more so but his apartment is cold and dark and empty. His neighbor is playing music, the effervescence of the sound of fireworks is muted into a sigh now. Minseok stops, feeling suddenly far away himself before he takes his coat off, walks in the dark of his apartment, sense of time distorted, liminal, towards his bedroom.

 

“Merry Christmas, Nini” he says, and smiles, a real smile, like the one he was giving the sky outside, but sobering up now, feeling more corporeal. It feels necessary to tell the bear it's Christmas. Minseok lets himself fall into bed, cold, cold, holds the bear, warm and soft against his face and inhales. Feels the sun in his face for a moment, the smell of wheat cradled in the breeze, summer, almost love. Minseok lifts his head from Nini's belly and stares at his beady eyes, embroidered nose, thinks of nothing in particular. It's Christmas so whatever, he gets up and digs into the plastic bag where he keeps his yarn and pulls out a sweater vest, knit in deep, rich brown wool and fusses about Nini “I know it’s not great but, we can't have you naked now that it's winter now can we?”

Minseok's handiwork is lacking. He tried though. The sweater vest is unevenly knit everywhere but it is there, it is completed and it fits Nini the bear a bit loosely but cutely. It even has pockets. “Happy with your Christmas gift, buddy? What?! Nini!! You didn’t get me anything??” Minseok sighs dramatically “next Christmas then” Minseok smiles, proud of himself, with the inexplicable satisfaction of creating something, kisses the bear on the forehead and gets himself ready to bed.

 

***

 

Minseok wakes up with a startle and opens his mouth and, even before he knows he is going to do so, he _screams_.

 

Minseok screams several times in quick succession, the person in his bedroom (in his _bed_ ) yells also, and they look at each other for a shocked second, the stranger looking just as scared and surprised as Minseok feels himself. There is a commotion of limbs and bedsheets and covers, elbows being shoved against sides as Minseok's body shoots, adrenaline propelled into the kitchen and back to the bedroom, his bare feet stop working and leave him parked hesitantly at his door frame before his brain can catch up to his limbs, his biggest knife in hand.

"W-why are you in my house?" he says, only slightly tremulous, only just getting to see the figure, scared open wide brown eyes and a tuft of messy brown hair peeking out of his bed covers, being held bunched up by two hands, the person's feet sprouting out on the other side, toes wiggling nervously.

"I'm calling the police!" Minseok threatens, realizes his phone is on the bedside table and that means he’d need to get close to this stranger man in his fucking bed to reach it!! _Why is there a dude in his bed?!!!_

Minseok waves the tip of the knife menacingly and the stranger makes a wordless sound of distress and in one fluid movement hides his feet under the covers, his knees making a mountain with Minseok's pale green comforter as he flexes them close to his chest to hug and his face is uncovered.

" _Fine!!_ ” Minseok continues only vaguely aware that he is not making any sense at all, “but I'll have you know I know martial arts!"

The intruder's mouth gaps in what seems an appropriately awed reaction, his back shooting straight before he says, utterly curious “what is _martial arts_?”

Minseok wheezes. Then, he stares. Minseok also then realizes that he... this stranger in his bed is _handsome_ , somehow he hadn't expected Stranger Man to be handsome.

And then the guy starts moving around like he’s gonna get up and it turns out that he is also naked from the waist down.

“ _Noo!!_ ” Minseok yells, followed by a long silence where the stranger freezes wide eyed, Minseok’s comforter bunched about his crotch and his naked butt in the air before... very slowly sitting back down again. The neck of sole piece of clothing he is wearing, a sweater vest, droops over his shoulder in an effortlessly seductive way.

Is that-? That’s the sweater vest he knit for Nini the bear?? Minseok’s eyes shift around the room searching for the stuffed toy and come up with nothing.

“ _What-_ why are you-” Minseok stops.

Recalibrates.

There is a half naked handsome stranger in his bed that has never heard of martial arts with a flawless tan but no apparent tan lines in the middle of fucking winter apparently in the place of his stuffed toy and this is absolutely not happening, this kind of thing does _not_ happen in real life.

So either Minseok never made it home from Jongdae's house after dinner yesterday night and now he is having one of those crazy dreams people in movies have while they are in a coma or, _or_ this whole situation is a fabrication.

Minseok feels like he has been set up, he has the sudden certainty he has been set up; he feels it in the way only a person experiencing extreme anxiety is certain of this kind of thing.

His eyes narrow, but his shoulders relax as he starts using more of his analytical brain “Jongdae put you up to this didn’t he? Who the hell are you? Are you that guy from his yoga class?? Sehun or something?”

The man in his bed also seems to relax, showing more of himself as he sits up, blinking slowly and stretching his hands in front of his face before looking back up at Minseok.

“Yoga? No... my name is Jongin” he croaks, dry, surprisingly deep voice. Minseok sees him pat his arms and legs, he lifts the covers to look down at his body, like he doesn’t knows it or like he is making sure everything is there and Minseok wonders _exactly how fucking baked is this dude_ and, after some confused eyelash fluttering and lip-smacking, Stranger Man... _Jongin_ says, “I'm thirsty.”

“Oh my god” Minseok whispers, snatches his cell phone from his bedside table and hits Jongdae's number as he flees to the living room, shooting back a “get dressed!”

 

 _“Hello”_ Jongdae's voice sounds hoarse with sleep.

“very funny Jongdae.”

_“Minseok?”_

“you know it's me,” Minseok replies, waiting for Jongdae's brain to start working as he wakes up a bit more, stealing glances through his bedroom door; as Stranger Man gets out of bed and takes off the sweater vest Minseok gets to see him in his full naked glory. It would be glory if this whole situation wasn’t so stressful and weird because the guy keeps murmuring to himself and having trouble apparently... walking? Remembering how to walk? Is he pep talking himself? Stranger (With A Butt So Firm It Doesn't Even Jiggle) Man is there practicing a jogging motion, then wiggling his fingers in front of his face, looking down at his dick and giggling and- “Jongdae, the stripper you sent is just way too stoned.”

_“Minseok are you drunk? Where are you?”_

“Oh please, I'm home and you know it” Minseok says, exasperated, and then again distracted as Stranger (Probably Go Go Dancer) Man stretches, hands over his head, lean and long and with obvious pleasure and _still_ not making any remote attempt at getting dressed or covering himself, which Minseok should do himself, since he is freezing.

“You have a key to my house, you've been pestering me to get laid for ages and it would not be the first time you’ve given a stripper as a Christmas gift, this has your name written all over” Minseok looks away from Jongin to his empty bed and finds himself asking Jongdae for his bear back as he wraps himself up in the coat he hung by the door when he arrived the night before, struggling to keep his phone against his ear, he realizes he is still holding the knife and circles into the kitchen to drop it in the counter, continuing whispering angrily "you can take naked hunk over there," he vaguely gestures towards his room even though Jongdae can’t see it “and bring me Nini back, I like him better, way less unrequested flashing, also aren’t strippers supposed to give strip shows?? It seems kind of a dispurpose to send me an already stripped stripper!!” Minseok can hear the hint of panic in his own voice but chooses to ignore it. He feels a vague need to start the coffee maker.

Minseok can hear Jongdae gasp through the phone before he asks _"what the fuck are you talking about?"_

"Stop playing dumb Jongdae, you are going too far, I do not appreciate having strangers shoved into my home while I'm sleeping, not even really hot ones."

 _"...Minseok, is everything ok? Are you trying to tell me there is someone there with you? Do you need me to come over? You- Just say yes or no, do you need me to come over?"_ Jongdae sounds scared and Minseok feels like someone punched the air out of his lungs.

Stranger Man is just wiggling his naked butt around his bedroom, gently looking through Minseok's drawers, apparently finally having decided he needs to wear something.

 

Minseok then, blood pounding in his ears and throat, hangs up on Jongdae and calls the police.

 

The Police officer lady enters his apartment, a second officer in tow, looking all business, hand on her belt, asking him to point to where the bedroom is; Minseok has already explained the situation to the operator who asked him to hold after assuring him that someone was on their way to his location, it helped soothe Minseok's nerves considerably. _Yes, there is a stranger in his home, no, he does not seem to be in immediate danger, yes, the stranger is acting strangely._

 

Minseok's boxer shorts are way too small on Stranger (Underwear Supermodel?) Man’s hips and Minseok hates it, he is not even sure if he is relieved he is not also wearing one of his own shirts. Minseok hates everything, he hates that he has to let the police into his home and answer their questions, he hates all the missing call notifications from his mom on his cell phone because it's fucking Christmas and his family wants to say hi. He's hungry, he is half naked and vulnerable and he _hates_ it.

One of the officers stays with Minseok while the other goes to his bedroom to talk to Stranger Man cautiously. The police officer that stays with Minseok in his living room asks him some vaguely probing questions like if he lives alone and what did he do for Christmas Eve dinner last night, Minseok answers quickly, nervous and unable to stop looking into his bedroom where stranger man seems to have produced a card out one of the pockets of the sweater vest Minseok knit for his stuffed bear to politely hand it to the police officer. The exchange ends there and Minseok sees the woman gesture for stranger man to follow her into the living room where Minseok is sitting.

The Police officer very sternly asks him about drugs. Minseok is very confused, he explains everything all over again. He does not know Jongin, he has never seen him before and he has no reason to be in his home.

 

“Sir, that’s not what it says in his identification.”

“He does _not_ live here.”

Jongin who’d been looking at the card in his hand chooses that moment to thrust it at Minseok’s chest "but I do live here! _See_!" and extends his arm towards Minseok. It’s an ID and indeed that is Minseok's address right there. They even share the same surname, Kim. Minseok’s life has turned into some Twilight Zone episode bullshit obviously and Jongin continues “apparently these are my identificatory papers! These are the tiniest shiniest papers I have ever seen!!”

 

The police officer looks at the ID then at Jongin and then she settles on Minseok saying, “I’d recommend you that the next time you have a... lover's quarrel, not to call the police and tell these kinds of lies, it could get you into serious trouble and please remember to drink responsibly even during Christmas eve. If you are having relationship problems or issues of substance abuse seek help.”

Minseok's jaw drops “I- but, _he-_ There are no- I-”

Jongin smiles at the police officer “thank you for your assistance kind person at the service of law, we are very sorry.”

What??? what??????

 _“You don't live here?????"_ Minseok yells, lifting his hands in the air.

Jongin takes a step back in fear before straightening and looking almost offended, his shoulders sagging into perfect picture of defeat as he pouts, he looks so much like a puppy it makes Minseok even angrier.

"But... I do! I remember it! I've been living here for years now.” Jongin looks almost hurt as he answers, soul-searching eyes like he is seeing something inside his head, looking more and more certain before he continues gently, “I've been sleeping with you since before Luhan left you."

Minseok’s heart stops. He really feels like he’s dying “wha-? Ah? _AH?_ ”

The police officer clears his throat uncomfortably... and leaves them with a groan and a “Merry Christmas” and a reminder that prank calls to 911 are illegal and that they are being left with a warning but it is a crime and they can and _will_ get prosecuted.

Stranger Man, Kim Jongin, then apologizes profusely and politely as Minseok tries to get his jaw to shut again.

Almost at the same time as that happens, Joonmyeon, Jongdae, Chanyeol and Baekhyun appear at Minseok's door.

Minseok's brain checks out.

The expectation of all the upcoming social interaction is enough for him to just _give up._  He takes off towards his kitchen and starts the coffeemaker, struggling for any sense of normalcy as he hears the muffled voices of the two police officers and his four acquaintances speaking over each other, the sound grating on his nerves like nails on chalkboard.

Minseok focuses on breathing. He also talks to himself a bit and, to calm himself down he thinks.

He lives in a tenth floor so nobody could have climbed in. Jongin must have been let in or he must have had a key. Jongin must have entered while Minseok slept or before he arrived. Minseok concludes he needs to change the locks. Where the hell is he gonna find a locksmith on Christmas day though, _shit._

And then Jongdae bursts through the kitchen door with his arms open. Minseok lets himself be hugged, half listening to whatever Jongdae says, and then even less when he starts arguing with Baekhyun from a distance in between he asks questions to Minseok. Minseok answers in monosyllables and pours coffee for everyone but himself, traverses right through the living room where Jongin has cowered into sitting on the couch and walks into his bedroom to dress himself. When he comes out the conversation is still going but the police is gone.

“What do you mean his ID has this address? Let me see.”

“That's impossible.”

“Maybe he has like, amnesia.”

“This is not a soap opera Junmyeon.”

“No, wait, maybe he's right, maybe this ID is old and he used to live here?”

“Maybe its a fake ID and this is all an elaborate ruse to sack Minseok out of his own fucking home.”

“Uh-” Jongin, who had been observing their exchange sitting in Minseok's boxer shorts on the couch, interrupts them, all of them glare at him simultaneously and he presses his knees tight together before continuing in a small voice “I'm... cold.”

“Ok… Where are his clothes?” Jongdae asks.

“He doesn't seems to have any considering he is wearing _my_ underwear!” Minseok hisses.

“ _Ooh"_

“There’s no unfamiliar clothes laying around, I checked already” Baekhyun says.

“That's interesting, what did he do with his clothes?”

_“I don’t know!!!”_

“Well… he can’t stay like this” there’s a pause where everyone again directs their attention to Jongin, then Chanyeol offers “my clothes would fit him but-”

“We are not giving him clothes and he is leaving!”

“Minseok!! it's the middle of winter!! It's Christmas day!!”

“Are you fucking with me? Chanyeol I don’t give two shits if he is the lost princess motherfucking Anastasia and it's coronation day!!!”

“I know you are upset right now but he can't stay naked like that!!”

“Why not though?”

“ _Baekhyun!!_ ”

 

“I feel betrayed,” Minseok says, sheepishly, sitting in his kitchen; with a coffee mug between his hands and pants on he is feeling a lot more collected “there is a strange man in my house, he was _in my bed_ and now Baekhyun is chatting him up in my couch as he tries on his jeans!”

“Minseok, even so, you can't just throw him out on the street.”

“Like hell I can't,” Minseok hisses.

“Minseok please, look at him” Junmyeon sighs and Minseok does. Jongin is dressed now on a button up shirt with only one lapel peeking from the collar of an ugly old sweater that is too big on him, the seam of his pants is a bit too short and they have a tiny cigarette burn on the knee. Minseok sees how Jongin is tall and lean and pretty and has an easy smile but he also looks tiny and scared and completely lost. Like his eyes are looking for something he can't find anywhere, constantly searching, going from face to face again and again, eagerly. Joonmyeon continues “it’s obvious he has nowhere to go, you can definitely take him in a fight and... have you considered you may have let him in yourself? you left home pretty drunk Minseok”

“I did _not_ bring him home”

“You really like tall guys and he’s pretty hot too.”

“ _I did not bring him home_ ”

Junmyeon hums noncommittally, and Minseok feels the childish urge to call Jongdae and whine _'your boyfriend is bullying me! Defend me!!'_ Minseok is so tired. He identifies it as what it is, he is crashing after so much stress. He needs a fucking nap.

“I'll look into this situation and who he may be but... be patient?” Junmyeon adds and leaves him alone with a pat on the shoulder that aims for comfort.

Minseok says nothing, continues looking at Jongin instead.

 

He wonders once more if, in real life, he isn’t currently deep in some induced coma dream right now.

 

***

 

It's frustrating having no answers about who the stranger living in his home is.

 

Minseok changes the locks and turns his whole home upside down looking for a key that may have been used to unlock the door or the clothes Jongin must have surely been wearing when he entered his home. Minseok also looks for Nini. Can’t a grown ass man own a goddamned stuffed toy in peace?

All he manages to do though, is drive himself half mad and completely exhausted. He finds nothing. He even checks the bins outside.

Minseok talks with the doorman and asks if he'd seen Jongin ever before and he said no. Minseok decides to take Jongin to the Police Station. The trip does absolutely nothing to ease his nerves though, as soon as they get out Jongin freaks at the first sight of a car. After a lot of yelling it turns out that his terror is being caused by Transformers.

He and Chanyeol had been watching Transformers before leaving and Jongin apparently thought that all that happened in the movie was true. Chanyeol laughs hard, slapping Minseok’s and Jongin’s chests.

Minseok is torn between scepticism, amusement and anger because it was so stressful. And embarrassing.

 

When they finally get to the Police Station Minseok asks them if someone knows who Jongin is, if there's a missing person's report with his face on it. If Jongin really is as lost as he seems to be, someone must be looking for him. The detective promises them to look into it and Minseok leaves his contact data with him and takes Jongin back home. Chanyeol is still trying to explain to Jongin what a movie is and how some things on TV are not real, even though they look very very real. Yes, better than any painting. _Do you remember what a photo is Jongin?_

 

Because it's the only thing that feels right to do for the rest of the afternoon, Minseok sulks as hard as he can and drinks wine until it's time to go to bed while Jongin watches TV in absolute fascination and allegedly newfound knowledge.

(Minseok is still finding it hard to believe someone could forget Transformers is a work of fiction.)

 

Chanyeol orders them pizza for dinner and Jongin - under their surprised gaze- eats most of it. It’s like he hasn't eaten in days.

 

Only once tucked in bed, unable to sleep, door ajar, hearing Chanyeol snore he realizes he could have left Jongin outside. He feels dumb.  

Then he remembers Jongin’s eyes.

He remembers it _is_ Christmas and that weird shit happens all the time and that it really is cold as fuck, that people die on the street and knows he really, couldn't possibly have abandoned Jongin outside.

 

Minseok feels like an asshole now; vaguely wishes he was a meaner person, he is also immediately relieved he is not someone who would abandon a person that’s been shoved into his life and who clearly needs help. Maybe things do happen for a reason.

He’s scared, and angry with himself about it. The tangled yarn of his mind feels especially tangled, realizes his body is uncomfortable because his mind is uncomfortable. He fluffs his pillow briskly, wonders if he has stopped growing, comforted by isolation, so stagnant he is terrified of anything he can’t control or anticipate. Minseok doesn’t wants to feel like a coward.

 

***

 

The first few days after Christmas are a mess, Minseok’s friends take turns staying with him overnight -just in case something happens- and his family keeps calling him for updates on the situation.

 

Minseok’s completely routinary, comfortably boring life is thrown into complete disarray. The change is so abrupt that he is relieved when the attention dwindles.

There are no updates on who Jongin is or where he came from and everyone’s attention shifts to their own families and year end projects. Even Minseok himself is too busy with work during this time of year not to be pragmatic about the whole situation, he doesn’t have to love it, just bear it.

Jongin is surprisingly accommodating and good natured for a person that has apparently lost most of his memory and every single one of his belongings.

 

Minseok refuses to let Jongin stay inside his home alone while he is at work so Jongin gets bundled up on everything Chanyeol can spare and sits at the doorstep of Minseok’s work building.

 

Every day Minseok thinks he’ll come out and the steps will be empty. Nobody would sit in the cold for eight hours in the days before new years to wait for him, especially not someone that has a place to go. Maybe, just maybe, Jongin really has nowhere to go.

Every day Minseok expects Jongin to be gone, but every day Jongin is there, everyday he has something exciting to tell.

 

“A lady gave me this today!!” Jongin says one day, as Minseok exits work mentally exhausted after trying to understand what the second branch is even fucking doing with their budget and arguing with 5 different people about what the hell are they doing with the avocados. He is in complete contrast to Jongin who is practically bouncing with excitement, holding a dollar bill perfectly horizontal, upper corners held delicately pinched between index and finger of each hand.

“A lady gave you money?” Minseok says, gives Jongin a once over. He has, so big it droops over one shoulder, a fleece lined denim jacket with patches that has clearly seen better days, a hoodie that is even bigger and the knees of his jeans have grass stains Minseok can almost see the dog he surely got down to pet. Jongin also really needs a haircut and a shave and somehow still he manages to look cute. Minseok thinks that Jongin also looks… a bit too excited all the time, out of place, like a time traveler, no matter what he is doing, the insufferably commonplace turned extraordinary. Minseok sighs and finally says, “I guess I should have expected it considering you are sitting here all day? Do you ...sit here all day?”

“Yes! Mostly? I wait for you and people are fun to watch, Dolores told me she likes to feed the pigeons and do the same thing, she called it… _peoplewatchin’_ ”

“Who’s Dolores?”

“The lady that sits in the park? She does it every day. She isn't waiting for anyone though, she does it because she likes it.”

“I see.” Minseok resumes guiding them back home, the park is only a couple of blocks away and it would make sense for Jongin to find it a pleasant place to spend time in “What do you do when you need to go to the toilet?” he asks, he’s been curious about that for a while. Jongin hasn’t had a good trajectory with modesty so far.

“Mcdonald’s” Jongin says, like it's obvious “What exactly is this though?”

“It’s… that’s money, Jongin you don't remember _money_?”

Jongin looks at it confused, “is it like toilet paper?”

Minseok starts laughing and every time he collects himself he catches a glimpse of Jongin’s absolutely perplexed face and starts laughing again.

Minseok can’t even remember the last time he laughed for so long his cheeks hurt.

 

***

 

Work is hellish torture of budgeting and payroll and taxes and Minseok is stressed as fuck, he has his boss shoved halfway up his ass and it's hard to fall asleep without the familiar comfort of Nini to hug. Amongst all of that Jongin is actually… kinda nice to have around.

 

Jongin makes coffee every morning even when he apparently hates coffee himself; after the first time he tries to make coffee and Minseok tells him off and shows him how to do it properly, he does it perfectly.

 

It’s interesting for Minseok to see how easily Jongin remembers some things and seems completely ignorant about others. Minseok amazed hears him talk about the stars and about plants very confidently. Jongin _loves_ parks and cooking shows on tv. Jongin is absolutely enticed by the washing machine, which is great for Minseok. Jongin can tie his shoes very dexterously but has no idea whatsoever how to shave or use a phone is. Cars still scare him but the metro does not.

“These cave travelling chariots are fascinating! And fast!” he says and Minseok just… accepts it as a victory.

 

Minseok also books a check up for Jongin with his own doctor. It will be expensive but he’ll sleep better knowing what he’s dealing with.

 

***

 

“Minseok” Jongin says, shivering. The sun keeps setting down faster and faster, shadows orange and blue, and it's freezing cold but he’s still smiling, excitedly rubbing his hands together and almost entering the building to extract Minseok out “tomorrow is new years!”

“It is?” Minseok answers, surprised, not because he forgot, but because having it brought up made him realize he didn't plan anything. He hands his briefcase for Jongin to hold while he buttons up his coat and arranges the scarf around his neck. He looks at Jongin for a second before he trades him his gloves and his beanie for his briefcase. Jongin holds them, continuing to babble excitedly “should we do something? We celebrate, right?”

Minseok hums in agreement and starts walking “put that on.”

“But it's yours!”

“Just” Minseok gestures meaningfully, “put them on.”

“I’m- Thank you” Jongin’s lips are pale and his cheeks are red. His hair is too long and it sprouts out of Minseok’s beanie cutely. Their breath fogs around them as they walk towards the metro.

“But _oh_ , Minseok you must have plans for new year’s right? What should I do?”

“I didn't really make any plans this year Jongin” Minseok says and can feel his interloper stare at him “...what?”

“It’s unusual for you to not plan things, is it not?”

Minseok huffs and opens his mouth to argue the absolute moot point of his nonexistent spontaneity when Jongin takes off skipping towards a kiosk.

Minseok stays put on the sidewalk, watching Jongin count his coins and hand them over.

They go down the stairs into the underground and in the metro, Jongin pulls from his pocket a bar of chocolate he immediately offers Minseok.

“What’s this?”

“Chocolate. I tried it today with Dolores, the lady that sits at the park, and I thought _ah, I wish Minseok was here!_ And now you are here, and you can have it!!” Jongin’s eyes are full of excitement, like the prospect of seeing Minseok eat the chocolate is the most important thing he can imagine.

“But- Jongin… was that all the money you had?” Minseok asks, incredulous and flustered.

“Yes,” Jongin says and Minseok can tell he doesn't understand how that’s important “It’s sweet and I wanted you to try it.”

Minseok looks down at the cheap chocolate bar.

“You don't want to?” Jongin offers, shoulders sagging minutely, trying to hide his upset.

“No, Jongin, I do” Minseok says, incredulous, reaching out to hold Jongin’s hand, automatically wanting to offer comfort “thank you.”

Jongin smiles and wiggles proudly in his seat.

 

Minseok eats the chocolate, feeling something blossom, effervescent in his chest.

 

It’s true. Minseok hasn't made any plans for new year’s so he has no idea what the fuck to do. Except maybe drink beer. Minseok is An Adult, he can have beer for dinner if he wants. He could have beer for dinner if he wants but what would Jongin eat then? Minseok has the impression if he let Jongin cook he would very efficiently poison himself and destroy the kitchen, all in one go.

 

“Minseok, should we go hunting for our meal?”

“You ...want to go eat out tonight? To a restaurant? That could be a good idea.”

Minseok has never before gone for dinner out on new years so he makes the rookie mistake of thinking that there will be any restaurants whatsoever that aren't completely, absolutely packed. He uses his phone to look at their nearby options. It will never stop amazing him how many people dine at McDonalds in dates like these. Minseok sighs.

It’s early enough that they can still go to the supermarket and at first Jongin looks overwhelmed as hell which worries Minseok because it reminds him of the Transformers incident but he ends up having to run after Jongin stopping him from touching everything and adding shit they don't need into their basket.

“Jongin we really don't need this much shampoo what are you doing?!”

“But it smells so nice Minseok? This one, look, smell it _, smeeeeell iiiiiit_ ”

Minseok is pretty sure they don't need this much string cheese. Or chicken nuggets for that matter.

He finally realizes how much TV has Jongin been watching when he can recite perfectly every cereal brand jingle in existence and then some.

 

“Minseok what is this? Is this magic? Can we get this? Is truly this whole meal inside this bowl??! Minseok I think that this is a lie!!” Jongin yells, shaking a cup of instant ramen cautiously and then, angrily “I am _positive_ there is no broth in here!!”

 

They have instant ramen for new years eve dinner, of course, spicy shrimp ramen and beer.

“That _is_ magic!” Jongin says, awed “why didn't you tell me you were magical Minseok? That explains a lot.” Minseok laughs.

 

When they are done, they sit on the floor in front of the couch and Minseok discovers Jongin is a lightweight. They don't even drink three beers and he is drunk. Minseok is worried at first but then, Jongin starts giggling and complimenting him.

Ah.

“Minseok… you are so pretty,” Jongin giggles, liquid eyes and flushed cheeks, and they both cover their faces in embarrassment. When Jongin finally sits up after recovering from laughing like a seal he says, “don’t people of this era kiss for new year’s, Minseok?”

Minseok gasps “don’t you- _Jongin_ ” but then he has Jongin’s arms around his chest. The embrace is delicate, unsure, like Jongin doesn’t really know how to hold him. It's not a new year’s kiss, it's something that makes Minseok feel like he is made of glass and the apartment falls silent just as it turns midnight; they can hear the neighbours celebrate, a cacophony of voices, pops of champagne, fireworks.

 

“Thank you for always being so nice to me,” Jongin says, quietly, and Minseok relaxes, lets Jongin put his forehead on his shoulder and stay there as long as he wants.

 

***

 

January the first is an off day for Minseok, and he spends it half on the couch knitting and answering Jongin’s near constant questions, eating snacks, and taking naps to recover from all the stress and extra work he’d been doing.

 

Minseok jolts awake with Jongin curled on his side in the couch, tentatively, he stretches his hand and pets Jongin’s head.

Jongin smiles in his sleep and Minseok catches himself smiling back.

 

***

 

They very soon have a wardrobe crisis.

 

“ _Jesus christ Jongin!!_ ”

Jongin stops shoving chau mien into his mouth for two seconds to dignify Minseok with a grunt.

“Jongin!! We talked about this; you need to wear clothes in the house!! You-you have to wear clothes outside too!!!” Minseok adds, to make himself clear. Just in case.

“But I _just_ took a bath!” Jongin says “I twisted that contraption!” he continues, pointing at the thermostat “And I want to watch this,” he finishes, eyes returning to a rerun of The Great British Bake Off.

“At least underwear!!” Minseok turns the TV off, forcing Jongin to give him all his attention. It's a mistake. Jongin turns on The Puppy Eyes, their power amplified to the millionth because he is both naked _and_ eating. Minseok tries really really hard to stop his eyes from wandering with moderate levels of success, which is to say pretty much no success whatsoever. “At least a towel! Jongin did you- Jongin!! you didn't even dry your butt!!”

“ _Fine_ ” concedes Jongin, standing up “but I don't want to wear socks!”

“Jongin!! you are going to catch a cold!”

Jongin stomps away towards Minseok’s bedroom, “socks _suck._ ”

 

The only thing Jongin has no problem wearing is the sweater vest Minseok knit originally for -the still missing Nini. Scratch that, Jongin actively refuses to take it off.

 

“Give me that,” Minseok finally confronts him and demands Jongin gives the vest back.

Jongin presses his open palm against his chest and says, "but you made this for me."

Minseok shakes his head as a barrage of things interconnect in his mind, feels like all the internet memes of CIA operatives spying on people are real, someone has been spying at him in his home and now they are using it to make some elaborate joke or scam. Nobody knows he knit the vest for Nini... except... He stares in fear at Jongin’s soft smile and then Minseok's brain conveniently, _completely_ refuses to accept that information. Minseok’s brain just. Refuses. Throws away the whole thing and focuses on _laundry_.

" _No_ ,” he says, lifts his index finger in accusation, “ _no_ , you give me that, give me the vest."

"No."

"I- it needs washing... please."

"No." Jongin holds the vest to his chest. He looks ridiculous and Minseok has a hard time stopping himself laughing.

"I'll knit you something else?"

And then Jongin's face lights up, all dulcet wonder and Minseok, once more, can't help smiling back at him.

 

***

 

Jongin really doesn’t like the doctor. Minseok has to bribe him with six, _six_ , bars of chocolate to even let the doctor listen to his heart, even with a lot of reassurance that it’s for his own good. Jongin actively attempts to fight the nurse that tries to take blood from him and Minseok needs to intervene. The MRI incident is something Minseok doesn't even want to think about, even less talk about. It's a trying, tough day for everyone involved.

 

Jongin doesn’t let go of Minseok’s hand even after they get out of the hospital.

 

In the end, it turns out there is nothing wrong with Jongin’s bones, blood, muscles or brain. The doctor finds Jongin in surprisingly good health considering Jongin is basically... a homeless man.

 

***

 

Minseok still doesn't know if this is all an elaborate prank or if he should call the police again. He doesn’t wants to hear them tell him that they don't have any news for him again. Minseok is pretty sure none of them believe him anyways. He’d like to have a psychologist talk to Jongin but he can’t currently afford it. It's frustrating.

 

“I can’t seem to find anything on him or what to do about this,” Junmyeon says. Minseok says nothing because there is no polite answer to give. Minseok takes all his frustration and alarm and saves it for later. Ignores it for later.

 

***

 

“Jongin wake up, we are going to buy you shoes today.”

“What’s wrong with my shoes Minseokkie?”

“First of all don't call me that and secondly, you can't be wearing canvas shoes in winter, we should have gotten you proper shoes ages ago.”

“But… _Minseokkie_ ”

“ _Jongninnie_ , get up.”

“...yes.”

 

***

 

January is just behind them and they’ve already built a pretty solid routine. Minseok goes to work in the morning, wakes Jongin up, takes a shower. Jongin makes coffee and often gets back to sleeping while Minseok has breakfast and gets ready for work; sometimes and more and more Jongin lets Minseok shave him. They banter, daily, about the length of Jongin’s hair. They leave together, Minseok works, Jongin waits, they go home together and cook. On the weekends they do shopping, cleaning and laundry.

Jongin never gives the sweater vest willingly and Minseok has learnt to get creative with his bribes.

 

There are some things that are still puzzling Minseok and he can't seem to figure out no matter how much he thinks or prods. Jongin can read perfectly but his writing is completely unreadable gibberish. Jongin, when most disconcerted, keeps asking about ‘the horses’ but then he refuses to answer questions about him remembering anything even remotely related to owning horses. Certain abilities he has that make Minseok think Jongin lived somewhere isolated that doesn’t match at all with all his strange inherent knowledge about how some tech things work and an extensive amount of trivia that comes out in particular when they are watching history shows. His vocabulary is severely lacking in some aspects and truly extensive in others.

 

Jongin’s education, and with it his provenance, remain a perfect mystery.

 

Minseok takes him away from the TV and turns the kid safety firewall on (because… awkward) and sits him in front of his laptop. Gives him mostly free reign of the internet in hopes that he will maybe remember something, anything, about who he is and where he is from but all he manages to do is give Jongin more cannon fodder to ask questions and himself more reasons for confusion.

 

“You told me you remember being in China,were you ever to any of these places?”

“In China I was in a box I think, I don't remember it very well.”

“ _A box??_ ”

“Can we go to China together Minseok? I want to see it with you.”

 

Once Jongin relearns money, he is unstoppable. Jongdae gives him an old working cell phone, new sim card and teaches him how to use it and off he goes, towards autonomy. As soon as Jongin realizes he can make ‘currency’ from walking dogs he sets off to do so with what can only be described as childish eagerness.

 

"I like dogs!" he says like Minseok doesn't has to drag him away from every single pet shop and park, “Dolores too said it would be a good idea!!”

 

The next day he gets home from work Jongin and Jongdae are sitting together cutting flyers.

“Minseok!! Hello!! You are here!!!” Jongin gets up and runs towards him. “I’m sorry I didn't wait for you today, I came here with Jongdae.”

“Jongin, you told me on the phone, I know.”

“I know but I like seeing your face so much better,” Jongin says. “I like this a lot better.” Jongin presses his palm, gently on Minseok’s chest and Jongdae starts coughing behind them.

 

***

 

“Minseok” Jongin whispers, “Minseok.”

Minseok sits upright on his bed, scared at first, then he grabs at his phone “Jongin what the hell! It's 3 am!!”

“I’m sorry Minseok,” Jongin is at his bedroom door silhouetted by the shifting lights of the muted TV “...I just remembered something.”

“You did?” Minseok feels excited “That's great!” turns on the bedside table light on and turns, squinting, towards Jongin again.

Jongin looks scared.

“It's... not great? What’s wrong?”

Jongin shakes his head and hesitates. “I’m sorry” he says.

“Well… that sounds ominous.”

“It’s not- I’m sorry but-” Jongin’s entire body language changes from tense and scared to vulnerable. He wraps his arms around his chest and looks tiny. So tiny.

“My parents are dead and nothing I-”

“Oh-Jongin…” Minseok swallows, struggling to get his brain to give him something appropriate to say, “I’m sorry I-”

“Minseok can you hold me please?”

There is only the smallest pause between Jongin’s question and Minseok’s answer. Jongin’s hands shake.

“Yes.”

 

Jongin slides into bed with him and Minseok is a bit startled by it but Jongin is cold and tense and he does not have the heart to stop him.

 

Minseok doesn't notice falling asleep with Jongin in his arms, his head on his chest.

 

Minseok isn't aware of dreaming, ever. That night he knows he dreams of walking through a beach he recognizes but can’t remember, the sun warm like a hug and heart free of worry.

 

***

 

Minseok knits, he knits, somehow lulled by it less and less, his hands getting more and more dexterous and needing less and less of his attention, his eyes on the way Jongin doodles on a napkin, free hand picking disinterestedly at the threads of his torn jeans, pouty mouth blowing away the hair off his eyes.

 

A feeling of something, something, growing, dyeing everything, like sunset light.

 

***

 

Jongin finally has customer that wants him to walk his dog three times a week, it's the first of many. Him and Jongdae arranged it so Jongin would walk dogs during the time Minseok is at work, which is convenient for everyone involved.

Chanyeol finds out Jongin is about to start with that and brings him one of Toben’s old leashes.

“Also, my sister sent you this! Cha-chan!” Chanyeol produces a pack scrunchies from his pocket in front of Jongin’s awed eyes and Minseok’s utterly disenchanted ones.

“What are these?” Jongin asks Chanyeol and then, ignoring Chanyeol’s ready open mouth to explain, he turns “Minseok, what are these?”

“Hair ties? Do you want to try using them?” Minseok says, leaving his knitting aside.

“ _How?_ ”

 

Minseok shows Jongin how to tie his hair and Jongin is so serious about it Minseok can’t help giving him two pigtails with the excuse of showing him different hairstyles he can do.

“And this is how little girls do it.”

Jongin looks at himself in the mirror, seriously, turns his face to the left and then to the right. Minseok, crowded against the space by the bathroom sink, looks up at him with a grin and has once more an epiphany about how handsome exactly Jongin is. He mostly ignores it, Jongin’s face hidden by hair and his body hidden with other people’s old clothes but… he really is very handsome.

Jongin, with his uneven way too high pigtails, turns to look at Minseok in the eye and deadpans, “I love it. Little girls are so clever.”

 

Minseok has to convince Jongin not to wear pigtails to meet his first customer.

 

***

 

Jongin crowds him against the kitchen counter and holds his cheeks and asks, "so am I a real person now?"

“Did you watch Pinocchio last night Jongin?” Minseok thinks this, right now, is the least lost he’s ever seen Jongin. There’s a clarity in his eyes that makes him feels even more confused.

"Don't call me that, use the name you gave me," Jongin says, soft, pouty, almost seductive.

Minseok’s heart speeds up. “Whatever are you talking about?”

Jongin smiles and says “have you seen my scrunchies? I’ve lost all of them.”

 

***

 

“I don’t want to remember any more things,” Jongin says, softly, like speaking to himself.

 

It's a Sunday. It's sunny and they’ve sat on a park bench to rest their legs from their walking. It’d been specially cloudy and dark the last few days and they both wanted to be in the sun.

Minseok gazes at Jongin’s profile until he hangs his head, hides his face behind his hair. He’d gone quiet after Minseok kept refusing to accept the money he’s been making walking dogs, Jongin really wanted to give it to him.

 

“I want to stay like this.”

 

***

 

Jongin gets himself a proper dog walker belt and two pairs of jeans. No shirts. He steals them from Minseok, like he is sneaky.

(He’s not.)

 

***

 

“Minseok.”

Minseok doesn’t need to see Jongin’s shy lopsided grin, the way he tucks his hair behind his ear. Dark eyes full of lights.

“Minseok,” Jongin says and Minseok can hear the smile in his voice, the adoration.

Minseok doesn’t turn to look.

He is a coward.

 

***

 

“I know you won’t believe me,” Jongin says.

“I know you need me right now? I think you are just...” Minseok struggles for the next word “...confused?”

"My father is like that. Was. Is? _Was._ ” Jongin's hands ball into fists and Minseok stays put, very quiet as he continues “he was one of those people that always look for the reasons to suffer. I guess it is something that comes with the position, responsibility will do that to you.” Jongin's eyes grow distant and Minseok hears in his voice the strangest tilt. “There are some people that can't accept things being good, who find it easy to accept suffering but not happiness. Being scared of happiness is disease that ails many, I’ve found."

Minseok makes a conscious effort not to ask about Jongin's family and instead replies, "I'm not scared of being happy."

“Why do you keep searching for reasons to be unhappy then?" Jongin says, hugging his knees and resting his temple on them, brown eyes true and deep. Jongin is curled into a tiny ball on the edge of Minseok's bed and still his presence takes so much space Minseok can't let go of the door frame to walk into his own bedroom, he feels like if he gives one step closer to Jongin he will fall and never stop falling. "You don't need to feel it's naive to believe that things can be good, _just_ good."

 

Minseok can’t answer that because Minseok feels like trust in anything, nevermind goodness is irrational and stupid. Things aren’t good, nothing is inherently good. Things just are what they are and life does not care about favours.

 

That is not something Minseok believes, it is something Minseok _knows_.

 

And still… some part of him wishes he could believe Jongin was right. Minseok can’t say it. He can’t say how he feels, there is no point in it. Minseok knows Jongin is too sweet, too full of wonder to understand what Minseok knows.

 

Jongin's existence is not an exception.

 

“Go sleep on the couch Jongin.”

 

***

 

Jongin goes to sleep on the couch every night but every morning Minseok wakes up with him beside him, long arms wrapped loosely around him smelling like sunshine and clean sheets.

“Jongin, again?”

Jongin doesn't even open his eyes, just holds him tighter and mumbles, “cold, couch uncomfy.”

 

They really don't have enough comforters to divide by two for how cold it is and Jongin isn’t being weird about it so… why would Minseok have a problem? He does sleep better with Jongin.

 

It’s almost better than sleeping with Nini, Minseok thinks. (Almost. Nini didn’t drool.)

 

It would be stupid to get attached to Jongin. Jongin is a stranger, he’s a stranger even to himself. Minseok thinks it would be stupid to get attached to Jongin. It would be unfair. Jongin is only passing through his life and Minseok knows it, feels this is also something he needs to learn from. It would be stupid to be scared of being another marker on the highway, someone else Jongin goes through, looking for someone else. Jongin needs him now, and eventually Jongin won't need him anymore. That's how things are.

 

It would be stupid to get attached to Jongin.

 

It's so hard not to.

 

Minseok remembers only few times he was simultaneously so happy and so miserable to be with someone and he feels vertiginous, a tightrope walker, about the meaning of the parallels.

 

One Saturday of February; Minseok tries to leave Jongin’s embrace and can’t, Jongin’s arms tighten only minutely but Minseok's resolve dies immediately, so weak you wouldn't even have suspected it ever existed.

It’s dark, still night, even though the clock says otherwise. He looks down at where Jongin’s arms are wrapped around his waist, caresses, idly with his fingertips against the hairs of Jongin’s forearm and Jongin’s mouth parts, slowly, his eyes open, slower, to gaze up at him.

His fingertips burn. Minseok feels all of a sudden like his bed is too small, like the apartment is too small, like he needs to run.

 

This time when he tries to get up, Jongin lets him go, his eyes, his touch, lingering.

 

Minseok walks away and feels the cold pour over his skin like needle pricks, but he doesn't go back.

 

***

 

The scarf Minseok knits for Jongin is absurd. Minseok never knows exactly when to stop, looking at it vaguely asking himself _‘is this done?’_ like he couldn't stand the idea of finishing his current work and moving to something else. The idea of actually having to present Jongin with his gift daunting despite Jongin insisting that he doesn’t want to wear any scarves but the one Minseok is making for him, even when he spends more and more time outside. Even when his sole turtleneck is in the wash.

Minseok knits until Jongin’s rambling reaches insufferable levels. Jongin is refusing absolutely to wear anything that covers his neck properly. Minseok is running late for work and he doesn’t think, takes the scarf and just wraps it around Jongin’s shoulders dramatic and harsh "here!! Here is the scarf I made for you.” The scarf is long, it is _so_ long, Minseok realizes only then.

Jongin opens his mouth to talk but Minseok interrupts him, talks over him, feeling self conscious, “you'll catch a cold and I’ll have to pay for your meds apart from all the food you eat. You eat so much food you know that? All you do is eat and sleep and browse the internet!! You are like a teenager!" Minseok continues tugging forcefully at Jongin's clothes, fussing with his coat and his scarf. “How old are you anyways? You are in your twenties but you are such a little kid.” Minseok rambles and Jongin smiles at him, sees right through him, lets him fuss over him.

Minseok freezes. “Oh god I'm becoming my own mother.”

Jongin wraps his arms around Minseok's shoulders tenderly, like Minseok is a tiny scared animal that may just bolt or may just attack, like he is delicate and frail. And Minseok is not delicate nor frail, but his emotions may be, maybe.

 

“Thank you, Minseok, I love it,” Jongin says against the top of his head and Minseok squeezes his eyes shut and wishes it didn’t feel so fucking nice.

Wishes it didn’t make him want to _stay_.

 

***

 

Jongin uses his hard earned money on books. He loses interest in TV and the internet; used, old books, cheap, expensive books pile up instead on Minseok’s living room until Minseok buys a bookcase shelf and puts it in a corner. Alarms sound in Minseok’s head about something that feels like permanency, the terrifying edge of commitment that he keeps choosing to ignore and ignore as he ignores it once more, just this once more.

 

Books continue pouring in and Jongin spends the weekends with his legs over the back of the couch reading to Minseok.

Jongin gets bored of Harry Potter as soon as he starts it, moves on to Ray Bradbury and cries. Minseok sees his feet wiggle as he is enticed, completely hooked on mystery novels, Jongin's voice trailing off, so hooked into Agatha Christie he forgets Minseok is listening and it’s Minseok too who suffers his terrified sleeplessness when he tries horror books. When Jongin moves to poetry, Minseok suffers in other ways.

 

 _“Come live with me and be my love,_ ” Jongin croons softly, feet always bare, long legs and long fingers, sleepy eyes and hair messy about his head and Minseok can almost visualize the store clerk girl that convinced Jongin to buy that book in particular.

 

 _“Love is so short, forgetting is so long,”_ Jongin reads, like he understands Neruda’s feelings.

 

Minseok can’t help listening, wishes he could. Wishes too, that for him, the forgetting part would come faster.

 

***

 

One day after work Jongin grabs Minseok by the hand and drags him to the park he used to spend most of his mornings waiting in.

“There’s a fair Minseok, have you ever been to a fair?”

Minseok has been to fairs before, yes, he says, but Jongin doesn’t hear him, buys him hot chocolate and thanks him again for the scarf he knit, tells him happily about the dogs he walks, by name and demeanor and without prompting, starts rating them by fluffiness.

Minseok has seen fairs before but he's never seen anyone shoot a perfect bullseye on everything the way Jongin does.

“I don’t want it,” Jongin says to the tenant before leaving abruptly after being offered the prize, a small stuffed bear holding a heart, a leftover of the just passed Valentine’s Day.

 

When Minseok catches up to him, pissed at being left to apologise, Jongin smiles at him and says “I’m sorry Minseok, I got bored! I want pizza for dinner Minseok, can we have some?” as he reaches for his hand again.

“Yes... Jongin, we can.”

 

Later once they are home sitting on the couch Minseok watches Jongin pick the olives off the pizza (offensive, if you ask him) and asks “Jongin, do you remember other fairs?”

“I’m not sure. Somehow it was not what I expected.”

“What did you expect it to be like, Jongin?”

“I guess, somehow...” and then Jongin lifts his eyes and looks far away “...sweeter.”

 

Minseok knows Jongin remembers and isn't telling.

Minseok stops himself from asking.

 

***

 

“Minseok,” Jongin's voice, deep rumble between his shoulder blades, ticklish in his ear, in the dark, hot palms against his stomach. It's not as mercilessly cold outside their bed tonight but it's warm, so warm under the covers.

 

“Minseok,” Jongin says “will you always love me like this?”

 

Minseok pretends to be asleep.

 

***

 

“Jongin, where is Nini?” Minseok asks, like its an afterthought, watches Jongin’s back curve with tension.

 

Jongin keeps reading _On The Road_ , pretending he didn't hear him.

 

***

 

Jongin learns that Minseok’s birthday is coming closer, comes closer as well. Curls closer, always, perfumed now in spring, like freshly cut grass and puppies and the benediction of the Sun. Minseok can feel, almost with his own hands, how much Jongin’s hands yearn to touch.

 

It’s wonderful, it’s terrible. Jongin kisses his palms in the dark and Minseok feels like he may vomit his own heart.

 

***

 

“Jongin,” Minseok says, hates the despair of his own voice, eagerness, pining.

“Jongin,” he repeats, infuriated with everything; everything that is transitory.

The dream of permanency, a fabrication of uncertainty, his lies, it's all a lie Minseok pretends not to see. They’ve built on a foundation of illusion, daydreamed mystery, and piled it up, poetry books and longing, piling up, loneliness and romance so blurred, so tangled; a knot that can't be undone.

 

Slow and aching, Jongin kisses him for his birthday, drunk and soft and wet and sweet and sour. Minseok, with equal strength, equal measures of longing and distress, wants to kiss him again and wants to ask him, only _“who are you?”_.

 

It’s late, it’s too late. He’s had too much food and opened too many gifts, attended too many phone calls, has been the receptacle of too much kindness, has felt too much melancholy at the inevitable passage of time. They are alone, they are home, just home from their dinner with Minseok’s friends and fuck it, it's his birthday and Jongin is right there, tangible in body and need and Minseok lets Jongin kiss him.

Minseok doesn’t question, doesn’t chase Jongin’s mouth.

Minseok makes no effort to undo, to untangle. Life cares not for favours.

 

***

 

“Who are you?” Minseok asks, blurts it out, tired, spring storm outside, nowhere to escape to, “I know you remember, why wont you tell me?” Minseok finishes, watches the way Jongin’s mouth quivers.

“You know,” Jongin says, eyes downcast.

Minseok sneers, a humourless laugh, all the thoughts and doubts he carefully bottled up for later; all the things he refused to deal with caving into each other, a cascade of sudden aversion. “Do you expect me to believe, _what_? That you don't know who you are? How stupid do you think I am?” Minseok says, he feels angry, so angry, he can’t care less, he cares too much and it hurts. “Who are you? _Why wont you tell me?_ ”

It hurts, it's torture finally recognized, pain left for later, ignored in favour of volatile passion.

“...you know,” Jongin says, softly, defeated, and it angers Minseok that there are no excuses, no defensiveness or effort to assuage his temper, to comfort him, to dispel his fears.

“Do you expect me to think you are-” Minseok pauses, his fury robbing him of speech, and then sight when his eyes well with tears. “Are you going to lie to me? Tell me you don't remember? Are you going to tell me you haven't been trying to deliberately make me believe that you’ve been living in- in a toy’s place?”

 

Minseok cries, inarticulately, wishes what Jongin said was right, that he was right, that life wasn’t cruel and things could be good, _just_ good, just _once._  Wishes that he could let things go.

 

“You need to go,” Minseok says. Minseok thinks that it is unfair that Jongin looks so beautiful when Minseok feels so ugly. Distorted, he’s fallen, like he knew he would but he needs to know the truth, he can’t do this like this. He can’t. He presses his hands to his temples in an effort to make his mind stop screaming reasons why Jongin would stay quiet other than because he doesn't love him enough to tell him the truth.

 

Minseok is weak, regrets everything immediately, regrets and regret is darkness that eclipses the Sun, wants nothing of this, he wants to make this situation fade away, to go back, for it to never happen, he wants to see Jongin smile again but he knows he can’t have that, that he won’t ever again have that because _Jongin won't tell him the truth_.

Jongin presses his lips together and his hands stretch towards Minseok for a moment before he gives up, gives up, looks once more so small, bereft, sitting on the edge of Minseok’s bed, a homeless man. And then, right then, the world is a crushed bloom, everything is marred, in this instant, in his heart.

Grey, the stretch of the endlessly mundane is the only thing that exists for Minseok, from that moment on. Jongin gives up on Minseok. Everything gives up on Minseok.

 

“I understand,” Jongin says, tears falling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

 

There is a pop, like a sudden shift in the air and Minseok’s heart pounds as the impossible happens before his eyes, his terror and grief and disbelief, sadness, shock, merging together into an apogee of overwhelming emotion that forces him to his knees.

 

Minseok opens his eyes, hands shaking and weak arms sliding over the comforter as he reaches towards Jongin. Jongin. _Nini_. Laying on his bed. A beautiful vintage stuffed bear. Beady eyes glinting in artificial light, eyes made of glass blown on eternal fires under the full moon of february, the softest fur, enchanted under the sun and washed with tears shed over memories of summers of love.

 

“No,” Minseok whispers but the toy doesn't answer.

“Come back,” he sobs, buries his face in the stuffed bear’s tummy, but it doesn’t answer, it doesn’t put its arms around him.

 

 _“I’m sorry_.” Minseok begs, once more the only inhabitant of his apartment. Nobody can hear. The bear is just a toy, and Minseok knows there is no such thing as kindness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- Perihelion is the point of a planet’s orbit when it is closest to the Sun.  
> \- “Love is so short, forgetting is so long” is from a Pablo Neruda poem titled ‘Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines.’  
> \- “Come live with me and be my love” is from the perennial ‘The Passionate Shepherd to His Love’ by Christopher Marlowe.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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